Ginny paused to order her wand to blow hot air on her hair.
- "... And so I told James that if he ever again felt the urge to see how far could fly a garden gnome tied up to a balloon, I would send him to cook muggle jam with my mother for a whole day."
- "He cooled down fast, I suppose", Harry giggled from the bed where he was reading a report from the northern team mission, the file against his raised knees. He blew a strand of hair that fell over his eye. "This kid is never short of nonsense."
- "I should use this threat more often", said Ginny fiercely.

She pushed back the mass of tawny hair, shiny and thick, which crumbled on her shoulders like the fur of a fox. Harry smiled at her. He never tired of contemplating her. The bony and ungainly teenager had turned into a young woman whose fragile beauty always moved him.
And the fact she had become his wife remained a miracle to him.
She tied the strings of her pale green negligee around her slim waist, took off her slippers and climbed on the bed.
- "Are you almost done working?" she asked, leaning against the pillows, one hand on the bare shoulder of her husband.
- "I'll be done soon", Harry said. "Or ... maybe, now."
He lowered the file and leaned down to kiss her.

The scream suddenly tore the peace of the house and made them jump.
- "Albus", Ginny said, frowning worryingly. "Again ..."
Harry nodded, preoccupied.
- "I'm going."
He got up, put on his slippers and left the room without taking the time to put a shirt on his pajama bottoms.
The night lights bathed the corridor in a quiet and gentle pink atmosphere. There was a small locomotive abandoned on the carpet and a doll dressed for Quidditch sitting on the back of a cardboard unicorn.
He gently pushed the door and shook his chin.
- "Oh, Al ..."

Standing in the boat-shaped bed, his four year old boy was a mess. Big tears rolled down his cheeks, his black curls sticky with sweat on his forehead, he held out his hands toward the door, pleading.
Harry quickly crossed the room, leaned over and took in his arms the small body shaking with sobs.
- "Hey, Al ... it's okay, little guy, it's okay ... it's over ..."
He paced in the room, gently cradling his son who clung to him.
- "What happened? Did you have a nightmare? Al ... Daddy's here, you're fine, now."

He picked up the plush dragon Hagrid had given Albus for his birthday. (After checking twice himself, Harry had taken it to the Ministry of Magic to ensure this was a harmless replica and not a momentarily enchanted real specimen of the Grand Hairy Lizard of Groenland.)
- "Al, here ... your dragon ..."
But the child pushed away the plush, nestling his crying face in his father's shoulder.
Harry bit his lip. He continued to pace for a while, whispering to soothe the little boy.
- "Daddy?"
He turned his head.

James was on the doorstep, barefoot, rubbing his eyes, half asleep.
- "Go back to bed, James", Harry said gently. "It's nothing. Your brother had a nightmare."
- "Ah ..."
Ginny showed her face above the boy's head.
- "Everything okay?" she mouthed silently.
- "We'll be fine," Harry replied in the same way.
- "Come on, James", Ginny said, taking her son by the hand. "You're going to the loo and then into bed. It's very late."
- "Okay ..." yawned the child, following her.

Harry listened to the discrete noises, water flowing, the soft voice of his wife, the melody of the music box, a peaceful sound in the night. On the other side of the corridor, in the moon-shaped crib, baby Lily slept soundly under the merry round of magical butterflies.
Al stopped crying. His heart was beating slower and his skin seemed less warm and moist against Harry's.
- "Hey ... feeling better?" the young man asked, cocking his head to see the face nestled against him.
- "Yes ..."
Harry smiled, lifting the child in his arms to look at him in the eyes.

- "Was it a nightmare?"
His lips still trembling a bit, the little boy nodded.
- "Do you want to tell Daddy?"
No. Then yes.
Harry sat down in the rocking chair where Mrs. Weasley usually settled to play with the children. He wrapped his son in the plaid and gave him the plus.
- "Toothless wants to know, too."
Albus hugged tightly the very soft black dragon. He rested his chin on the horned furry head.
- "A meanie… wit a big black coat", he whispered at last.
His voice was still hoarse with fear and sniffles. He lifted his big emerald eyes, looking at his father.
- "Wit bad eyes. Vewy vewy bad."
- "What was he doing?" Harry asked while he gently massaged the back of the little boy.

Albus shuddered. He timidly raised his hand and waved.
- "Like that, wit his wand: badava! and you awe dead."
His voice choked and he hid his face again against Harry's shoulder.
- "He wants to take me!"
- "Shh ... It's okay ..." Harry whispered, cradling him. "It's over ... Daddy won't let the meanie come any close to the house, I promise."
His voice was calm and warm, but his blood had turned into ice.
A man in a black coat ...
A wand ...
In a green fog, a figure was running away with an innocent baby ...
Footsteps creaked in the hallway.

Ginny came to the door and leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded. Her blazing autumn hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her pale skin dotted with freckles seemed almost ethereal.
- "Harry?"
He looked over the messy dark curls of the boy curled up against him.
- "He fell asleep", Ginny smiled.
The young man looked down. Albus breathed softly, his thumb in his mouth, holding tightly the plush dragon.

- Oh.
His wife came to him in a rustle of silk and kissed his temple.
- "You probably dozed off a bit too. Put him in his bed, I think everything will be fine now."
Harry nodded. He put the child into the boat and carefully tucked him. He kissed his forehead, put in place a delicate black lock. Then he patted the dragon's head, softly adding a "you take care of him, Toothless", and left the room.
Ginny was already in bed, but he did not feel able to go lie down next to her before he had sorted a little his thoughts.
He went up the hall, sat on the edge of the bow window, pressing his cheek against the glass, breathing the scent of bougainvillea that perfumed the porch.
The sky, deep as an inkwell, was speckled with bright and twinkling stars. The moon was full, each of its cracks perfectly visible in the clear night. He could see the silhouette of the crooked roof of the Borrow. The windows on the top floor were still lit, cutting two golden squares in the darkness.

- "Mr. Weasley's working away from his wife on a muggle project in Ron's old bedroom ..."
He chuckled.
Some things had not changed - and that was just fine.
He drew in a long breath.
Everything's okay.
It was only a dream. Something scared him, a silly story his brother told him, or ... whatever. It was nothing.
It was a bit cold now. He returned to the bedroom and slipped under the duvet without turning on the light. Ginny was sleeping. She mumbled something, turned to his side and slipped her arm around him. Her hair smelled of mint and her skin was as soft as milk.
He sought her hand and laced his fingers with hers, closing his eyes, happy to feel Ginny's warm body curled up against his back.
Yes, everything was okay.

In the plain, the wind caressing the tall grass, filling the night with a whisper, as if the shadows were talking.
Slowly, the fog rose. Dark mist filaments gathered around the moon, giving it a pale color. Then black columns silently came down on the horizon.
One.
Two, three ... five, seven, ten.
Under each, straightened a silhouette dressed in a black hood.
The tallest raised its wand and gestured towards the house. The nine others nodded and began to run, quietly, stirring the grass, leaving an unhealthy trail behind them.
The first one unlocked the door and rushed inside followed by a group while another climbed onto the pergola with a quick movement, like a feline mist.
The sound of breaking glass woke up Harry and Ginny.
- "What is it?" whispered the young woman.
Harry was already up, his wand in hand.
- "Take care of James, I'll get Lily and Albus", he ordered in a hoarse voice.
She nodded, very quickly, grabbed her own wand on the shelf and walked around the bed.

They slipped into the hallway, parted in the middle of the carpet. Harry crept to the door covered with drawings. The characters with huge square heads that were walking on two legs, grease pencil works of James, waved anxiously on the papers.
The young man paused, holding his breath.
Something had moved, down the hall. Glass debris shone quietly on the cushions of the bow window and the floor. Harry felt the night air coming through the broken glass.
He stepped aside, entered the room while continuing to monitor the shadows, approached the moon cradle.
Lily was breathing, her mouth open, the rosebud of her nightgown nestled in her chubby neck. He took her in his arms, propped her against his shoulder. She did not stir, just bubbled something against his neck. Small wisps of red hair tickled Harry's cheek.

- "DADDY!"
The frightened scream, followed immediately by spell fires and a cry of pain froze his veins and he rushed into the corridor.
James and Ginny were held at gunpoint by the wand of a man hidden under a long black cape. Her eyes blazing, Ginny was holding her wonded left arm, while trying to get James behind her. The little six years old boy stared at the aggressor as bravely as he could.
- "Harry!"
The shrill and terrified tone of his wife was very far from the voice of the woman who had fought with him during the great battle of Hogwarts, and he understood why when he turned his head.
Another figure in a hood came out of Albus' bedroom, holding the little boy in striped pajamas. A huge glove was pressed against the mouth of the child whose eyes were bulging with terror.

Harry felt the cold end of the wand leaning against his neck before he could take a step.
- "The Great Potter", chuckled a voice. "Harry. The. Great. Potter."
The man behind him began to laugh, a laughter that sounded like teeth clashing. Golden teeth.
- "You thought you were safe, right?"
Harry tried to swallow but could not. He wanted to turn around, to see who it was. He was almost sure he recognized the voice.
- "But that's it. Boom. A friend who fails you, and we find your home."
The drop of sweat that trickled down his back was burning.
A friend?
The wand poked his skin, scraping against his jaw bone.
- "And now the party is going to start."
- "Don't touch the children", he uttered harshly. "Let them go with their mother."
His heart was pounding in his chest.
- "Oh, but why? It's so fun to be together!"
A sneer.

Harry caught Ginny's eye and tried to make her understand his thoughts.
If she jumped, now, above the ramp, taking James with her, she could run away while ...
Ginny did not move her head but her eyes said no.
Under his messy bangs, James stared at his father then at the man who held them at bay.
On the other side of the corridor, Albus did not move, his little face smeared with tears, the leather glove suffocating him.
Lily stirred. She yawned, opened an eye, brushed away a lock of red hair and straightened.
- "Mummy?"
Harry stiffened.
- "Oh oh", said the voice behind him with a sarcastic tone.

It was the signal.

Harry dived with the little girl in his arms and the unknown wizard fired at the same time.
Suddenly, the corridor was plunged into chaos, filled with smoke and sparks, body jostling, moaning shadows and terrified screams.
Harry and the man holding Albus swung into the bedroom and rolled on the carpet in the middle of toys. The boat overturned, the feathers of the pillow spread flew everywhere in the room.
James' door creaked on its hinges when Ginny's aggressor was thrown against it, the little desk fell with a broken foot, the chandelier crashed in the stairs with a broken crystal noise.
Then all was quiet again.
Silent.

Lily sat up. Her cheek was scratched. Her father had thrown her in the linen chest in the movement he had done to jump on the man holding Albus. She looked around, blinked. Then her lips trembled and she began to cry.
Ginny lift herself painfully on one elbow, pushed her tangled hair away and spat the blood beading on her cracked lip. She crawled to the child and touched her face, whispering softly to calm her sobs. Her arm hung down, she had not the strength to take Lily out of the chest.
James came out from under the broken door. A little blood ran down his brow and a bruise already began to purple his cheek. He saw his mother and staggered to her, holding back his tears with great efforts. Ginny let him snuggle against her. Her eyes continued to look anxiously for the others.

The black hoods were gone.
The house was strangely silent. In Lily's room, the pink glow of the butterflies flickered.
Harry rolled onto his side with a grimace of pain. A splinter of wood was stuck under the skin of his stomach and he was pretty sure his right shoulder was dislocated. He sat down, breathing heavily, compressing the pain in his shoulder with a bleeding hand.
Bleeding.
He looked at his fingers smeared with blood.
He had no gaping wound. Who ...
His eyes fell on the little body curled up in the middle of the room. A mass of dark and messy curls, striped blue pajamas, the plush dragon lying on the floor where a large pool of blood was slowly spreading.

- "ALBUS!"
He threw himself towards the child, turned the body to him, patting the little white cheeks and the inert face.
- "Albus - Al, my God, Al ... Al, answer me – Al, it's Dad, wake up!"
His voice choked. His throat was so knotted that he could no longer breathe, blinded by the tears running down his face.
- "Harry?"
He did not turn his head.
- "Harry? Please. Harry."
Ginny's voice was urgent.
- "Harry, wake up!"
The light suddenly blinded him. He closed his eyes, opened them again. Ginny was leaning over him, her long hair undone on her shoulders. She looked worried.
- "Harry, you okay? You were having a nightmare."

He was in bed. Drenched in sweat, body stiff as if he had been beaten, his forehead burning.
His hand went to his scar, mechanically. Ginny put her cool fingers on the scar.
- "It's okay", she said. "It's not red or swollen as before. Does it hurt?"
He shook his head, his throat dry and sore. He was shaking.
Something wet slipped into his neck.
- "You were crying in your sleep", Ginny explained worriedly. "What happened, Harry? Where were you?"
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, coughed, grabbed his glasses on the nightstand and put them on.
- "I was ... at home."

He ran a hand over his face. He felt sick. He sat up, helped by the young woman.
- "The kids?"
She looked at him, puzzled.
- "They're in their beds, fast asleep."
He pushed away the covers and got up. His legs wobbled and he had to catch himself onto the bedpost.
- "Harry, you're sure you're okay? You look sick."

He left the room without answering, crossed the hall and opened the door of James' bedroom.
It was intact, it did not even squeaked as it did sometimes.
James was sound asleep, one foot outside of the duvet, the ribbon of the kite he had started the day before tight in his fist.
Harry breathed in deeply.
A dream.
It was only a dream.
He walked to Lily's room and it felt like a weight was lifted from his chest when he saw the red-haired little girl curled up under the butterflies, her tiny mouth hal-opened, with a bubble on the edge of her lips.
Ginny put her hand on his shoulder.

- "Harry. They're safe. We're safe. The war's over, we do not have enemies any more."
He clenched his jaws.
- "Every week I receive reports of apprentices death eaters or guys who revere You-Know-Who", he articulated, quivering. "There are still people willing to ..."
- "No, Harry," Ginny interrupted firmly. "No, there aren't. It's over. It won't come back. Back then, we did not know what had happened, but now it is taught in school. Everyone knows the horrors that were committed. It will not return."
He did not answer.
She ran her hand along his arm, slipped her hand into her husband and laced his fingers with hers.
- "It's over, Harry. It's all over. And you said it yourself. It's been years since you scar hurt last. Don't worry ..."

He took in a deep breath and let go of her hand.
- "Why this dream, then? And why was Albus crying? He felt it, like me. We are not safe."
Ginny stared at him sadly.
- "Harry. Al had probably eaten too much cake..."
- "He talked about a wizard launching an Unforgivable Spell on a child!"
He had almost shouted.
Ginny winced. She took the young man's face in her hands, plunging her eyes into his.

- "Albus feels your fear, Harry. It is to you that he is connected when he dreams, not anyone else."
Her voice was soft, but remained very firm.
- "It's over, Harry. The nightmare's over."
He was opening his mouth to protest when a thud echoed in the next room.
- "Albus!"
The child looked up when his father rushed into the room. He was standing against the edge of the boat and looked sheepish. The dragon plush, wearing a helmet with thick glasses, was on the floor next to him.

- "Oo-ops."
Ginny raised an eyebrow, then smiled.
Harry approached the little bed with care.
- "Al? What were you doing? You're still awake?"
- "Toothless wants to play Q-qwidditch", explained the boy, his big innocent green eyes looking at his father.
Harry took him in his arms, very slowly.
- "Isnt' Toothless a bit small for that? It's a sport for big fellows."
Albus pouted, disappointed. His dark curls mingled with his long eyelashes.
- "Let's see. I'll take him on my broom the next time we play with Uncle Ron, what do you think?"
- "And me too?" the child asked, with shining eyes.
- "And you too", Harry replied, smiling.

The warmth of the body nestled against his chest. The baby lotion smell, sweet and peaceful. This little voice giggling in a crystalline delight.
It was true.
They were all there, in the house - safe.
Together.
Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and pressed her cheek against her husband's shoulder.
Yes.
Together.
And there is nothing to fear.
Albus twirled his fingers in the dark hair of his father, then slid his chubby hand down the face of the young man.
- "Daddy?"

- "Hmm?"
- "Did you have a nightmawe, too? Did you cwy?"
Harry hesitated.
- "Yes."
Albus tilted his head graciously. His large emerald eyes gazed at his father. He suddenly leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck.
- "It's ovew, Daddy", he whispered. "It's ovew, you fine."
His little hand patted the back of his father, reassuring.
Harry hid the tears that were owerflowing into the fold of the little striped blue pajamas and closed his eyes, holding his son tightly.
- "Yes", he whispered "Yes, I am."